


the move-in

by Overdressedtokill (SkyeStan)



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: AU Where Everything is Happy and Good, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Throwback to Early S1
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-29
Updated: 2015-09-29
Packaged: 2018-04-23 22:42:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4895059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SkyeStan/pseuds/Overdressedtokill
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>skye, grant, + “14 Discoveries You’ll Make Once You Move In With An S.O.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	the move-in

**Author's Note:**

> a skyeward throwback. consider it sometime in the early days, in a universe where everyone is happy. i missed this.

She slides into the couch across from him. Smooth as can be. She only almost drops her laptop once.

“Buzzfeed posted a list about us,” she says.

He, as always, looks up from his coffee like it pains him. “What did you do?”

She huffs. “Nothing,” she says. “Wow. No, dummy. They made a list. 14 Things That Happen When You Move in With Your SO.”

Blink. “You know that means-”

“Supervising Officer,” she says, waving him off. “Yeah, totally. I got that. I just didn’t realize it’s a common thing, you know?”

“Are you being-” He gestures. “You’re doing the you thing, right?”

“The me thing?” Skye says. “I do a lot of things. I’m beautiful. I’m talented. I can curl my tongue, sometimes.”

“Why?” he says, and that could be referring to any number of things.

She pretends he’s being specific. “I dunno. Sometimes my tongue-”

“Why this,” he amends, like it’ll do him any good.

She shrugs. “The wifi’s being spotty.”

“Right.”

She grins. And he’s pretending that he’s not completely charmed, but she knows him. And he always is.

“So,” he says. Places his coffee cup on the table. “What’s number one?”

She clears her throat. Looks at her computer. Clears her throat again.

“Skye.”

“Number one,” she says. “1. Once you move in with an S.O., you won’t go out as much anymore.”

He stares. “Right.”

“Wait, wait!” she says. “It’s totally true! I’ve gotten super boring since I moved in with you. I never get to go anywhere.”

“We live on a plane, Skye,” he says. “And also, I’m not really sure ‘moving in with me,’ is-”

“Don’t make it weird,” she says.

He bristles. First of the morning. “I’m not making it weird!”

“We live together now and we’re roomies and it’s great,” Skye says. “But we never go anywhere. This is spot on. It’s just like our lives.”

“Where are we going to go?” he asks.

“I mean, where do you want to go?” Skye asks.

He pauses. Purses his lips.

“If you say dog park-”

“I miss Buddy!” he says. “Is there something about dogs on there?”

“We just started the list, so no, Grant,” she says. “There’s nothing about your dog on here.”

“Well there should be.”

She almost laughs. “Remember when you pretended like you didn’t have a sense of humor?”

“I’ve always had a sense of humor,” Grant says.

“Sure, Grant,” she says. “Right.”

“Don’t use that tone,” he says.

“It’s not a tone, it’s my voice.”

“It’s a tone.”

“Sure, Grant.”

He makes a face. “You know what?” he says. “We’re behind on training. We’re behind right now, even.”

“No,” Skye says. “No, we have 14 points, and we are getting to all of them.”

“Do it on the go,” he says. “C’mon rookie. We’ve got pullups to do.”

And she only goes because there’s a chance he’ll do his sets first. Unlikely, since he’d probably worked out earlier, at like, 6AM or whatever unGodly hour he’s up at.

Still. She can probably get him to do at least a couple.

 

 

“Four,” Skye says, as Grant pulls himself up on the bar.

“That’s more than four,” he says. “I’ve done at least ten.”

“I meant number four,” Skye says. “On the list.”

“Put your phone away,” he says. Up.

She watches his back muscles. God. “Nah,” she says. “I’m having fun.”

“Oh,” he says. “Good. I’m so glad.”

“See?” Skye says. “That’s a tone.”

He makes a noise. Which may be agreement or amusement or something. Or muscle strain.

“Anyway,” Skye says. “Four. Once you move in with an S.O., you’ll become sort of inseparable by default.”

“False,” Grant says, through his teeth.

“True!” Skye says. “Look at us. Besties.”

“Simmons wouldn’t want to hear you say that.”

“Simmons is, like Fitz, watching you work out,” Skye says. “So.”

“So?”

“We’re pretty inseparable,” Skye says. “You know, in a totally platonic way.”

“Right.”

“Super normal,” Skye adds. “Just buddies.”

“Are you trying to say something, Skye?” Grant says. And like, he should probably stop doing pullups. But she’s not going to tell him to.

“I mean, I’m just wowed that you didn’t react to the word ‘buddy’ being tossed around like that.”

“I did,” Grant says. “On the inside.”

“The humor,” Skye says. “It’s cutting. It’s real.”

“Can I stop doing pull-ups now?”

“I never said you had to do like, a thousand of them!” Skye says.

“Well first of all, I’ve only done like, twenty five, and second-”

“Fine. Keep doing pull-ups. We’ve got a long list to go. Number five-”

He drops from the bar.

She pouts. “Rude.”

 

 

She flops onto his bed sometime in the middle of the day. Naturally, this occurs without warning. She probably should’ve knocked, or whatever, like in case he was naked.

But like, she had also been hoping he was naked. And he isn’t. So what’s the point?

He’s reading, and pretending not to notice.

“Eat Pray?” Skye asks.

“No,” Grant says. “I thought it was too wordy.”

“Right?” Skye says, rolling onto her back. “And like, when are we going to get to travel?”

“We’re travelling now.”

“But we don’t get to go eat anywheeeeere,” she says. “God. Married life is terrible.”

He looks up from his book.

She grins. Got him. “Number seven-”

He groans, so she lightly smacks his leg until he stops. Well. Until he groans more quietly.

“Number seven,” she says. “You will also become each other’s therapists.” A sigh. “How do they just like, get me?” She gestures between the two of them. “Get us, I mean. I’m such a good listener.”

“What are my parents names?” he asks.

“John Garrett and Victoria Hand, duh,” Skye says.

A stare. “Yep,” he says. “Outstanding.”

“Continue telling me about your childhood,” Skye says. “What was prison like? What was Academy like? Do you have any piercings you regret?”

“I was there for a day, fine, no.”

“Whatever,” Skye says. Adjusts herself, again, so that she’s sitting on his bed. Facing him. “Then let’s talk about your daddy issues.”

Grant wrinkles his nose. “What?”

“I mean, Agent Garrett casts a pretty big shadow,” Skye says.

“He’s... well first of all, he’s not my dad, I mean-”

“You called him dad that one time, though, do you want to talk about that?”

“Nope.”

“Are you gonna tell on me?” Skye says. “Are you gonna be all like, Dad, Skye tried to get me to say mean things about you.”

“Skye-”

“And then he’ll come marching down here and call me like, a baby hooker-”

“You’re not a baby hooker.”

“Ha!” Skye says. Points square in the center of Grant’s pretty little nose. “Relationship progress. Moving in together has been so good for us.”

He’s unmoved. “Can you get out of my bunk?”

She shakes her head. “Noooope.”

“Can you let me read in peace?”

“Negative.”

He pinches the bridge of his nose. “Has John actually called you a ‘baby hooker?’”

Skye nibbles her lip. “Well, I maaaay have started it-”

More groaning. Louder groaning.

She pokes his knee. Repeatedly. “Grant. Graaant. Grant stop.”

He buries his face in his book. Makes softer displeased sounds.

“Honestly,” Skye says. “You’re so mean to me, when all I am is kind, and nurturing, and-”

He’s still behind his book.

“Grant!”

“What?”

“We’re moving on to number eight.”

“Nope.”

“Grant-”

“Negative.”

“Grant!”

She can hear him laughing behind his book.

 

 

“Eleven,” Skye says, when her head is in his lap and the day is winding down. He’s petting her hair, as she knows he likes to do. Such a sucker, that Grant. Too cute for his own good. “The intimacy you share will reach a whole new level.” She shakes her head. “Too real.”

Grant makes a small noise of protest. She probably shouldn’t move her head when it’s in his lap. Oops.

Except not oops at all.  “I borrow your stuff all the time.” She eagerly waits for his indignant response.

“That’s cool,” he says. “I borrowed your hair gel last week.”

“THAT WAS YOU?” she asks, sitting up. “I thought it was like, Simmons or May!”

“Why?” Grant asks. And he’s smiling at her. It’s so endearing. It’s terrible.

“Because it’s ladies’ stuff! It smells like coconut!”

“I like how it smells,” Grant says. “And it has good hold.”

“You did smell especially nice last week,” Skye says. “And I couldn’t put my finger on why!”

“Well, first of all,” Grant says. “It’s because you’re vain and you recognize something that you smell like.”

“I am not vain!” Skye says.

A pause.

“It’s cute when I’m vain,” Skye says.

“And second,” Grant says. “Are you taking stock of how I smell?”

“No!” Skye says. “But we work out together, and you like, have this deodorant that you use that really-”

He looks so pleased with himself. “Really what?”

“This was supposed to be embarrassing for you, first of all,” Skye says. And she has to put her finger up, because Grant is leaning dangerously close to her.

“I’m mortified,” he says. “Number nine cut me deep.”

She giggles. “Yeah it did.”

“Skye,” he says. “Intimacy?”

Her hand is doing nothing. There’s little to no space left between them. “More than ever,” she says. “Soon I’ll be using your toothbrush.”

His face falls. “Please don’t.”

With a grin of victory, she surges forward.

And as embarrassed as he is (or she is, whatever.)

He leans right into the kiss.


End file.
